


My Boy

by Stormtrooperinclogs



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Copious Amounts of Fluff, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, Labor/Birth, Pregnancy, Vomiting, non graphic description of birth, seriously this thing is fluffier than two alpacas cuddling on a cloud made of cotton candy, some drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 22:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19839409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormtrooperinclogs/pseuds/Stormtrooperinclogs
Summary: The reader and Brian are having a child together. Also Brian's been hiding something from you.  And a brief timeline of y'all's relationship.





	My Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This is just 4800 words of self-indulgent fluff that nobody asked for. Enjoy!

“What’s that song you’re singing?” you finally asked the man who’d been humming against your stomach for the past few minutes.

“Nothing” he said mischievously, as he smiled and continued. 

It was a gentle, calming tune that he had created near the beginning of your pregnancy. You desperately wanted to know what it was, but every time you asked him about it, he denied any meaning. Even though the playful gleam in his eyes said otherwise.

* * *

You and Brian first met at a pub in London in 1975. Queen had just finished performing down the street, and the band came in to wind down. Upon entering, Freddie, Roger, and John were almost immediately surrounded by admirers, while Brian was a little more accessible; sitting with two or three fans rather than fifteen. He caught you staring at him and motioned for you to join them. You grabbed your drink and walked over to his table. 

After a while, the other girls realized that they weren’t going to get anywhere with him, so they went elsewhere. But you stayed, and the two of you spent hours talking and laughing about anything and everything. Over the course of the night you felt like you’d really made a connection with the guitarist.

“So we’re uh, playing a show in Cambridge next Friday,” he mentioned as the bar was closing, before hastily adding. “If you’d be interested, that is,”

You assured him that you would be there, and then bade him goodnight.

“Wait!” he yelled after you. “I didn’t get your name!”

“Y/N!” you called back.

After a few weeks it became routine. You would go to the concert, hang out with Brian at whatever pub afterwards, and he would invite you to the next one. This continued for almost two months before he properly asked you out. 

“So where’s the next show gonna be?” you inquired casually, as your friend downed the last of his beer.

“How about that new Italian place on Broadway?” he asked in a moment of bravery that surprised even himself.

His suggestion caught you off-guard because although you had come to fancy him over the last few weeks, you could never imagine that he would feel the same way. After the shock of his question wore off, you gladly accepted.

* * *

“What makes you so sure that it means anything, anyway?” your husband prodded, after you asked about the song again.

“Brian, love, I _know_ you. Anytime you hum the same tune for this long, it means something,” came your matter-of-fact response. 

It was true that it was nearly impossible for him to hide when he was working on something new. He would get this look on his face, like he was a million miles away in his own little universe, completely unaware of everything going on around him. You could set a cup of tea in front of him, or turn on the television, and he would have no idea. It was as if all that tethered him to reality were the chords he played, the rhythms he tapped out on the kitchen table, and the melodies he hummed. Yet for whatever reason, he would always keep the words a secret until the song was finished. 

This time around he had tried to be more discreet, attempting to disguise his idiosyncrasies in the hope that you wouldn’t be suspicious. Of course, if he didn’t want you to catch on, then he probably shouldn’t _exclusively hum_ _the same tune for months at a time._ But you couldn’t be too upset with him. Because as much as his recent secrecy was driving you crazy, you always enjoyed observing his thought process.

* * *

_I’ll pick you up at seven._

His words echoed in your ears as you were getting ready. You were very nervous about your date with Brian, but you weren’t quite sure why. It wasn’t like you weren’t going to have a good time, or that he wasn’t going to like you. You tried to push these thoughts aside as you carefully applied your makeup with a trembling hand. 

Once you were satisfied with your appearance, the nerves returned. _It’s just dinner_ you told yourself, as the doorbell rang. You slipped on your black heels and answered the door to see Brian, looking just as anxious as you felt.

“Wow,” was all he could say when he saw you. “You look beautiful Y/N,”

“Oh! Thank you. Um, so do you. Handsome, I mean,” you stammered. _Dammit. It hasn’t been five minutes and I’m already blowing it._ You thought to yourself.

He simply smiled at your attempted compliment and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

You took it and allowed him to help you into his car. 

* * *

“Love, the baby’s kicking!” you announced, effectively breaking your husband from his self-induced, creative trance. Lately it seemed like the only thing that could snap him back to reality was anything baby related. Sometimes even just saying the word “baby” was enough. 

While he felt the child move, you tried to sneak a look at his journal on the table. However, you only had time to make out the title before Brian snatched the notebook away. Just two short words that melted your heart: “My Boy”.

* * *

Your first date with Brian was even better than you had hoped. Dinner was just the beginning of what he had planned. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, as he drove you farther and farther away from the city. It was getting late, and the sun was setting. Thankfully you didn’t have to work the next day, so theoretically you could stay out all night if you wanted.

“You’ll see,” was all he would say.

After what seemed like hours, you guys finally reached your destination. You opened the car door to reveal an empty beach. You took your shoes off, letting your toes sink into the sand, and put them on the seat, while Brian fetched a blanket out of the car’s trunk. Once it was set up, he sat down and patted the empty spot by his side, inviting you to join. 

“What are we doing here?” you asked as you took your place beside him.

“Well,” he started, turning his body to face you. “I thought I’d take you away from all the lights in the city and show you the stars. What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect,”

He gazed at you in the evening glow, as the sun continued its descent in the sky. Feeling brave, he went to brush a stray hair out of your face, and your eyes locked. In that moment, everything else around you disappeared, and it was just the two of you, alone in the universe. You could tell that he felt it too because he began inching his hand over towards yours, and soon your fingers were interlaced. 

But neither of you were satisfied stopping there. He took his other hand and gently brought it to your cheek, cupping your face. You melted into his touch and allowed him to guide you towards his waiting lips. You completely succumbed to the kiss. You didn’t even notice that you had moved closer to him, until you were practically in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, somehow pulling you even closer, while his tongue asked for permission. You opened your mouth and took in everything he had to offer, throwing your arms over his shoulders and tangling your fingers in his thick curls. You climbed onto his lap, feeling how hard he was through his trousers. Just feeling his erection against your clothed core would’ve been enough to drive you crazy, but combined with the eagerness of his tongue and hands, you were so riled up that you could barely stand it. You usually didn’t go all the way on a first date, but you’d be damned if you were gonna stop now.

You ground against his lap, desperate for friction; moaning into his mouth as one of his hands squeezed your ass, and the other went up the back of your dress, fumbling with the zipper. You broke the kiss and went for his neck. When you pulled back, Brian opened his eyes, and you saw how dilated his pupils were. You stared into them for a second and saw a streak of light fly across.

“Brian look!” you gasped as you turned to find the light’s source. “A shooting star!”

“Make a wish Y/N,” he said, his voice about an octave deeper than it had been a dinner.

* * *

“I wish Brian and Freddie would let me help get the nursery set up,” you said, passing John a cup of tea. 

“Freddie wanted to paint today, and pregnant women can’t be around paint fumes,” the bass player shrugged. “How come you guys waited so long to do this anyway?”

“Well, you guys were busy with the new album, and I’ve just been so tired lately. But then the other day I just felt like ‘we need to do this NOW!’ y’know?”

“You’re nesting,” he stated. “It means that this one,” he pointed to your stomach. “Is getting ready to make his appearance. How far along are you again, 37 weeks?”

“39”

“Ah, that’s right,”

* * *

“Merry Christmas, love!” Brian called as he heard you get up. 

You exited the bedroom to find your boyfriend sitting cross-legged in front of the Christmas tree. He was still in his pajamas, and it looked as though he had been there for a while. It was your third Christmas together, and you were excited to see what the holiday had in store for you both. 

Once you sat down, Brian quickly grabbed his present and opened it.

“Wow, “Isle of Wight”! I’ve had my eye on this album forever! Thank you Y/N,” he placed a kiss to your cheek and handed you your gift.

It was a small, delicately wrapped package. When you went to unwrap it, you noticed Brian’s hand twitch. Was he... nervous? Carefully, you peeled back the paper to reveal a ring box. You stared at it in disbelief. Could it be..?

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he took a deep breath and opened the box in your hand, revealing a beautiful diamond ring. “Will you marry me?”

You looked at the ring in disbelief, staring at it for what felt like an eternity. After a few moments of stunned silence, you found your voice again and spoke the only word you could find: “Yes,”

With the biggest smile you had ever seen, Brian took the ring, placed it on your finger, and kissed you. You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and you weren’t sure if it was yours, or his.

* * *

“Brian! Freddie!” John called, as he knocked on the door of the nursery. “Y/N and I are going for a walk to the ice cream parlor down the street, you guys want anything?”

“No, we’re good. You two have fun,” came the response.

With that, you and John headed out. Because you were 39 weeks pregnant, you couldn’t walk very fast, so getting to the ice cream parlor took a while. But John didn’t mind, slowing his pace to match yours. He had a few kids of his own, so he had experience being around pregnant women. Fortunately, that also meant that he was usually willing to give Brian advice on what to do in various situations; usually the answer was “give her what she wants”. It was for that reason that he didn’t even hesitate when you said you wanted ice cream, he just said “okay” and told your husband where you were going.

Once you both got your treats, you went to find somewhere to sit. Just as John was about to help you sit down, your entire midsection seized in the most painful cramp you’d ever experienced. Quickly, you set your ice cream on the table to avoid dropping it, and both of your hands went to hold your stomach. You clenched your jaw to avoid crying out and drawing attention to yourself in the middle of the restaurant. Instinctively, John took your hand and drew your attention away from your contracting muscles; repeating the phrases “you’re okay” and “look at me”.

After a moment, the contraction ended as quickly as it began. You released a breath that you didn’t realize you’d been holding and sat down.

“You alright?” John asked.

You nodded. “I think so,”

* * *

“Do you, Brian Harold May, take Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N to be your lawful, wedded wife?”

“I do,”

“And do you, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, take Brian Harold May to be your lawful, wedded husband?”

“I do”

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,”

Brian brought his hand to your cheek, cupping your face they way he did the very first time, and kissed you.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Brian May!” the priest announced as your HUSBAND led you down the aisle. 

The rest of the night felt like one big blur, and by the time you were aware of your surroundings again, you were in a hotel room in Paris.

“Hey, Mrs. May?” Brian called from the bathroom. “You didn’t pack any condoms,”

“No, I didn’t,” you answered, cautiously approaching him. “Love, do you remember our conversation a few weeks ago? Well, I thought about it some more, and I realized that I don’t want to wait,”

“Y/N, do you mean it?” he asked, his voice taking a more serious note.

“Yes,” you beamed. “Let’s have a baby,”

* * *

While you and John were gone, Freddie had obviously decided that he could finish painting on his own because Brian was in the living room, assembling the crib with Roger, when you got home. Based on the amount of baby blue on your husband’s clothes, it looked like Freddie had made the right decision. 

“Alright, so it looks like you take this piece here-,” he said, pointing at one of many identical-looking parts. “And attach it to that piece over there,”

Instead of immediately diving into the pile to retrieve the object that Brian was trying to describe, Roger just stared at the heap with a confused look on his face. 

“It is _finished_ ,” Freddie announced dramatically, interrupting the pair’s befuddlement as he emerged from the baby’s room. “Let’s wait for Y/N and John to get back before we do the grand reveal,”

“I’m ready when you are,” you grinned, startling the vocalist.

Once Freddie’s pulse returned to normal, he led the entire group into the nursery. Most of the room was light blue with white trim, just like you and Brian chose. But then, on the wall opposite to where the crib would go, Freddie had painted a trio of badgers riding on a shooting star. 

You of course knew that Freddie was artistic, but this mural was on another level entirely. With the bright colors, and their sweet, little badger faces, you suddenly found yourself overcome with emotion.

“Oh Freddie,” you gasped, eyes watering and voice cracking. “It’s beautiful,”

* * *

About a month after the wedding, you woke up feeling like you had been hit by a bus. Everything was sore, and you felt sick. After about an hour of laying there in misery, you were forced to drag yourself to the bathroom to vomit. You tried to be quiet to avoid waking your husband, but he had apparently noticed anyway because you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” he opened the door to see you draped over the toilet. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Just a little-,” you stopped talking to hurl again. “...under the weather,”

Brian’s eyes widened with a sudden realization.

“You don’t think...” his gaze wandered down to your stomach.

You matched his expression as you understood what he was asking.

“You stay here!” he exclaimed, his whole body bouncing with excitement. “I’ll be right back!” 

You shook your head fondly at his eagerness before throwing up for a third time.

A few minutes later, Brian returned, still in his pajamas, with a pregnancy test in hand. He presented it to you and left while you took it. Once you were done, you exited the bathroom so you could wait for the results together. Nervously, you both held your breath, and each other, as the seconds ticked by. Finally, two _very faint_ pink lines appeared, confirming Brian’s theory.

“We’re pregnant,” he whispered, tears welling in is eyes. _“We’re pregnant!”_

He picked you up and spun you around in the most joyful hug you’d ever experienced; after which you found every inch of your face, and stomach, peppered with gentle kisses. 

You could swear that you had never seen Brian so happy. He had often talked about you guys having kids someday, and when you said you wanted to start trying right away, it took every ounce of his self-restraint not to tear your clothes off right then and there. He somehow managed to hold himself together long enough to get to the bed, and you guys spent virtually your entire honeymoon “trying”. And now, staring at the positive test, you felt like you had given him the greatest gift that you possibly could. You were going to have a _baby_ , a little person who would be 50% you, and 50% the love of your life. It all felt too perfect to be real, like any minute now you were going to wake up and everything would disappear. But it wasn’t a dream, and you couldn’t be happier!

A few days later you heard him hum his mysterious tune for the first time. 

* * *

You sat back down on the bed after getting up to pee for what seemed like the 18th time that night. Honestly, you had stopped trying to keep count. You looked over at your husband, sleeping peacefully. _God_ , you envied him. You could swear that you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in _ages_. 

Being pregnant was growing tiresome; between the morning sickness, the weird cravings, the mood swings, and the _endless trips to the goddamn bathroom every night_ , you were just ready to be done. Not to mention what a luxury it would be to lay down _without_ someone practicing his kickboxing skills on your kidneys. Yet your due date was still a few days away. And they promised to be the _longest_ days of your entire life. 

You noticed Brian’s slumbering figure reach towards your side of the bed and blindly feel around for a moment, before waking up when his hand couldn’t find you. He blinked a few times while reality came into focus and saw your silhouette perched on the end of the mattress. 

“Can’t sleep?” he asked groggily.

“He won’t let me,” you stated, placing a hand on your bump.

“How rude,” Brian chuckled. “Here, lemme talk to him,” he sat up in the bed and moved closer to you, placing his hands near yours and leaning in so that his face was lightly pressing on your belly. “Hey bud,” he said softly. “You gotta let your mommy get some sleep, alright? This time next week you’ll be keeping both of us awake all night, so we gotta rest up beforehand. Okay?”

You smiled at the gentleness of his words and felt some tears prick your eyes. You always got emotional when your husband spoke to the baby, and there was something about the softness behind his plea that tugged at your heartstrings. Your watering eyes turned into quiet sobs as Brian starting singing his melody as he tried to calm the child in your womb. 

It must’ve worked because the baby stopped kicking long enough for you to lay down. Just as you managed to get somewhat comfortable, you let out a defeated groan.

“What’s wrong, love?” came a muffled question from Brian’s pillow.

“I have to pee again,”

* * *

“Alright, now if you look at the screen here,” the doctor pointed a the image on the monitor. “You’ll see your baby. Would you like to know the gender?”

Ever since you and Brian found out you were expecting, you had been discussing whether you wanted a boy or a girl. Like most parents, you decided that it wouldn’t matter, and you would love it no matter what it was. But eventually Brian confessed that he was kinda hoping for a boy. 

“Yes,” you said, squeezing your husband’s hand. “We’ve talked about it, and we want to know what we’re having,”

* * *

Your first contraction happened at about midnight. At least you _thought_ it was midnight. When it started, your first instinct wasn’t to go look at the clock. You ignored it at first, assuming it was just your body practicing. You had been having contractions on and off for the last week or so, and you had gotten used to them to the point where you didn’t immediately rush to find Brian when they happened. Once it ended you just shrugged and tried to go back to sleep.

But then another one happened within the hour, and they kept happening. A few hours later, you decided that it was time to tell him. 

“Brian!” you shook him awake. “Brian, wake up! I think I’m in labor!”

He bolted out of bed like someone lit a firecracker under his pillow. He had been preparing for this moment, and he was ready to _go_. You retreated to a safe distance while he crashed around the room in an attempt to dress himself. 

“Oksothebagandthecarseatarealreadyinthecar-” he started, his mouth running a mile a minute. “Keys!” he remembered, furiously patting his pockets. “I need keys! _WHERE ARE MY KEYS?!?”_

“Brian!” you grabbed his hands, forcing him to focus on you. “Love, calm down. The contractions still pretty far apart. We’re not going anywhere for awhile,”

“Okay,” he nodded, relaxing a bit. “How far apart are they?”

“Um, I think 15-20 minutes? The last one happened right before I woke you up,”

Just then, another contraction ripped through your midsection, causing you to wince and grip your stomach. You looked up at Brian and saw the concern in his eyes. He knew that you couldn’t leave until they were about five minutes apart, but it broke his heart to see you in so much pain.

While you waited, Brian meticulously reviewed everything you might need. He found his keys and double and triple-checked that the car seat was properly secured. Even going so far as to open the bag you guys packed to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Watching his nervous energy manifest in this repetitive busywork was actually kinda sad. You could almost pity him. _Almost._

After about 12 hours, it was _finally_ time to go. Brian led you outside and helped you into the car. Unfortunately for you, the doctor that John and Veronica had recommended worked at a hospital on the complete opposite side of town, so it was going to be a bit of a drive. 

During the ride there, Brian proved to be an invaluable partner to have. With each wave of pain that overtook you, he let you squeeze his hand and helped you breathe. Despite the fact that everything you were going through was technically _his fault_ , you were glad to have him by your side.

After what felt like an eternity, you guys _finally_ arrive at the hospital. A nurse at the front desk directed you to labor & delivery, and a second person showed you to your room. Once you got settled in, the doctor came in and checked you. You were about 6 centimeters dilated. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

“Well, Lovies? What’s the good word?” Freddie asked, as you and Brian entered the studio. “Are you giving me a niece or a nephew?’

“Nephew,” Brian smiled and put his arm around your shoulder, gazing lovingly at the bump that was starting to become noticeable. “The doctor says it’s a boy!”

After a brief round of congratulations from the band, and the sound crew, Brian gently deposited you on a nearby couch and entered the sound booth. You watched in admiration as his fingers expertly moved along the neck of the famous Red Special. Even though you’d been together for several years now, each time you saw him play was every bit as mesmerizing as it had been the very first time you attended a Queen concert. You were so enthralled by your husband’s guitar skills, that you didn’t even notice Freddie sit down next to you.

“Can I get you anything dear? Water, tea, a pillow?” he inquired, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You smiled and shook your head. Whenever you joined them in the studio, Freddie was always the first one to make sure you had everything you needed. And if you did want something, he would stop at nothing to make sure you got it.

“If you guys are stuck for a name, may I suggest ‘Freddie’?” the singer joked, flashing his toothy grin. 

The two of you shared a laugh at his idea. You rubbed your bump fondly and told him that you and Brian had already decided on a name.

* * *

Hours had passed since you first arrived at the hospital, but to you, it felt like it had been _days_. Everything hurt, you were sweaty and nauseous, and you thought you were going to crush Brian’s hand by how hard you were gripping it. Your contractions felt like they were on top of each other, but your water hadn’t broken yet. 

A few minutes later, you felt a small pop as the sac finally ruptured and gave an almost orgasmic groan as the pressure that had been building dissipated. 

Your relief was short-lived however, as your contractions returned. Without the amniotic sac to act as a cushion, they felt more intense than ever. You were in so much pain that all you could do was cry. Brian tried to comfort you, but he was starting to sound like a broken record.

Just then, you felt it. The urge to push. It was time. You were about to meet your baby. Everything from the last 40 weeks had been leading up to _this_ moment.

“Brian, get the doctor!” you ordered.

He all but ran out of the room to do as he was bid, returning moments later with the doctor in tow. 

“Okay, Mrs. May. Looks like you’re fully dilated. You can push whenever you’re ready,” he told you after checking you one last time.

With the doctor’s blessing, you gathered up every ounce of strength that you had left and pushed, swore, and screamed your child into the world. 

“You’re almost there,” he informed you. “One more _big_ push,”

You bore down with the last of your energy and felt your son slip free. Much to your relief, he started crying almost immediately. The doctor cut the umbilical cord and placed the baby on your chest. 

He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, the second being the look of pure love and pride on your husband’s face as he looked down on both of you. Soon all three of you were crying. 

“Hi Charlie,” Brian whispered, voice cracking. “Welcome to the world, my son,”

He pressed a kiss to your temple and told you how amazing you are. He sat down on the edge of the bed, one hand gently stroking your face, the other touching your baby. 

“I think he wants his father to sing to him,” you suggested, hoping to finally get your answer about the mysterious melody.

Brian gave no response besides a knowing smile and a deep breath:

_Strange how soon the party’s over_

_I should know by now_

As you listened to your husband’s soothing voice, the gentle streams that fell from your eyes became full-blown waterfalls. 

_Hush, don’t you cry, there’ll be no pain_

_The bad wolf is gone_

_He’ll have no part of our game_

All the frustration you felt about his sneaking around during your pregnancy felt worth it. You finally got your answer, and it was so much better than you could’ve imagined.

_Don’t make it too soon_

_My small boy_

By the time he finished, your heart was so full you genuinely thought it might burst. In that moment, you felt like you had everything you could ever want. You had the most amazing husband, and now you had a beautiful baby too. Charles Harold May; your own little angel. _Your Boy._

**Author's Note:**

> I warned you that it was fluffy. Hope you liked it!


End file.
